To Become Intertwined
by Nymariaa
Summary: At thirty one the words finally appear on Danny's wrist. And yeah, he's not fucking happy. Not at all. He's drunk and miserable and wants to burrow himself into a hole and never ever come out. Soulmate AU
1. Chapter 1

At thirty one the words finally appear on Danny's wrist.

And yeah, he's not fucking happy. Not at all.

He's drunk and miserable and wants to burrow himself into a hole and never ever come out.

His wife has just left him, because of the stupid cursive writing on her wrist, that showed up randomly one beautiful Sunday morning last month and it just isn't _fair._

Instead of getting ice cream with Gracie and watching the newest Disney movie for the nth time, he's sitting in a shabby bar at midday on a Saturday afternoon like any other pathetic looser, while his wife and her new man are taking his daughter to a museum.

Isn't that just wonderful?

And because of what? Destiny. Fate.

Like that really exists.

Goddammit, they were happy before. They were married, still are actually. They have a family, a child together. Some words shouldn't change all that.

And the thing is, he and Rachel talked about it, wanted to make it work. Their relationship wasn't all roses and sunshine, they both have explosive tempers and occasionally need to let off some steam, but they had good times, too.

And Grace.

Lots of people don't marry their soulmates, why couldn't they be one of them?

That's when Stan Edwards, business man extraordinaire, swept in, (Danny wants to stab the bastard, but no he can't, he's a cop, he cannot stab his wife's soulmate) and met Rachel at one of those fancy art exhibitions, she loves to attend.

Rachel describes it like a fairytale, like their meeting was fated to be, although it can't be more than coincidence, everybody knows that. Danny listened to her tell their daughter one evening, one of the last days they spent living together. She was sitting at Grace's bed, stroking over her hair and smiling. He didn't mean to eavesdrop, honestly, but he couldn't stop himself when Rachel began to weave the story.

Apparently she'd been standing in front of one of those overpriced, modern paintings by some foreign artist with an unpronounceable name and admiring it, when Stan suddenly came up behind her and said the totally banal, but oh so romantic words:

" _Beautiful painting, isn't it?"_

She'd laughed (of course she did!) and answered:

" _Yes, I love the colours!"_

Then they'd both felt something, looked at their wrists and discovered the match. Soulmates. Rachel called it 'an indescribable pull to each other', but Danny has read up on that and it's supposed to be more of a sharp sting, so she can shove it with the romantic bullshit.

It was love at first sight, they both just knew that they belonged to each other. And dear Stan had bought the (ugly) painting right away, of course, to commemorate their love. Soon they were all going to Hawaii, just the three of them, Rachel, Stan and Grace, and 'aren't you happy, sweetheart?'

Danny still remembers Gracie, lying in her bed and looking at Rachel with big, confused eyes. "But Mum, what about Danno?"

Well, what about him? Obviously he's out of the picture, at least for Rachel. He knows he shouldn't, it's not her fault, just their fucked up biology, but sometimes he hates her a little for doing this to him. For taking Grace away from him.

Damn Stan and his business connections on Hawaii to hell!

###

'Jimmy's Corner' is almost empty at this time, not that Danny minds, he's here for the drinks, not the company. Nursing his fourth glass of whiskey, he already feels the pleasant buzz of intoxication take hold of him and he enjoys the sensation of brief distraction from the epic chaos in his life.

A vibration in his pocket alerts him to a new missed phone call, the eight one today and he should really call his parents back, let them know he's not passed out in a ditch somewhere. Which could technically still happen.

Danny chuckles a little to himself and downs his drink. The ditch-plan doesn't sound too bad right now, something to look forward to. With the alcohol in his system he feels quite content actually, if he avoids thinking even remotely about the people in his life. Maybe he'll get through this, make it work for his little girl.

Naturally this is the perfect, glorious moment fate has chosen to bestow him with another load of crap.

He could have lived being a 'blank', someone without a soulmark on his wrist, has lived like that for so long in fact, that this is more than a little unwelcome.

He's not a coward though, so maybe he really doesn't want to know, but he won't run away from it either. Danny steels himself, breathes in and out and finally takes a look at the thing that will invariably mess his life up.

They're really there, right on his skin. Strong, bold letters in a messy handwriting. Seeing it is different somehow, it makes it real, like this is happening.

A wave of nausea hits him and Danny wants to puke so badly, if only he wasn't sitting at the bar. The chattering guys to his right sure won't appreciate it.

His face drains of blood so quickly, he must look like a ghost, since he notices the bartender shooting him a worried glance and asking a friendly, "Alright there?"

"Sure", he says somewhat hoarsely and swallows, then clears his throat. His eyes are glued to his wrist though and he can't stop staring at the words.

 **Who are you!?**

And yeah, who the fuck are you, he thinks bitterly. What kind of person even says that in an introduction? It's weird, that's what it is! The handwriting looks so unlike anything Rachel has ever produced, more like his own unreadable scrawl. That's when another revelation hits him like a brick to the head. This doesn't look like anything he's ever seen a female write and sure, there have to be exceptions, but he can't suppress the feeling that the mark on his skin is decidedly masculine.

Fuck. This.

No, he's not thinking about this, not opening this can of worms yet. No way.

So, anyway, he's a Detective, he should get his facts sorted. This person, his soulmate, must be freaking rude to greet someone like this, right? Danny can't think of one scenario where this would be appropriate. Rude or maybe...

Great, fan-fucking-tastic, his soulmate is a criminal.

With a groan he buries his head in his hands and wishes he could shut out the whole world and never meet this mysterious guy or girl (please let it be a girl) he's destined for.

To say it in the wise words the teen he's busted for dealing drugs this morning:

Life sucks.

A hand taps him on his shoulder and he looks up as an old man with a great grey moustache settles in the stool beside him.

"Everything okay, son?" he asks in concern and Danny's always a little surprised that there are still people like this who would care about a stranger.

"No", he says, because there's no reason to lie here. He's not fine and he doesn't have to pretend to be either, so he kind of blurts out, "My wife is leaving me for her soulmate and she's taking my daughter with her."

The man's rather impressive eyebrows rise up and he gestures to the bartender for a round of drinks. "That's rough", he acknowledges. "I'm Joey by the way." He holds out his hand and Danny shakes it.

"Danny", he introduces himself , while the bartender arrives with their drinks.

"I still love her", he says and there should be a limit of to the pitifulness allowed to be displayed in front of strangers.

"I'm sorry, son." Joey nods sagely and gazes at him with sad, old eyes. "In my time those scribbles, soulmarks they call them now, weren't so common. The scientists call it an... evolution, I think. But I've seen many a good marriage ruined by it and families torn apart. We managed without them for so long, why do we need them now?" Sighing he takes a sip of his whiskey.

"It's stupid", Danny agrees.

"Any plans now?" he asks with sympathy.

In response Danny laughs helplessly.

"Why, yes! I'm going to Hawaii!" he declares with fake merriment dripping all over his words.

"I guess it's not a vacation."

"Nope", he says, popping the 'p'. "My wife, then probably ex-wife, is going to settle down there, because of the work of her new partner", Danny fairly spits out. "I have to follow, because she's taking Grace with her."

"Ah", the other man murmurs. "Maybe that's good, a fresh start."

"I have enough of 'fresh' anything, thanks", Danny says, holding his uncovered arm up to show off the dark writing. He doesn't care about modesty, so what if he shows his words to a stranger. They're not an 'intimate gift' to him like the commercials call them. Danny never wanted to have them.

"I just got it today", he adds at Joey's slightly shocked expression.

The old man shrugs in a what-can-you-do-way and gives him a smile. "Lots of beautiful beaches on Hawaii, pretty girls, too."

Danny laughs, it's not bitter though, just resigned. "I'm not into beaches."

Joey joins him and jokes, "But the girls?"

"Yeah", Danny nods and feels a little lighter. They chat a little about random stuff mostly, their jobs, politics, sports.

When it's late afternoon Joey stands up and bids him goodbye, because his wife is waiting with pie. Before he leaves though he looks straight at Danny and admits, "I didn't marry my soulmate. I met her and she was a beautiful and kind woman, but I didn't love her. Not like Sarah. You don't have to let a mark decide your life, son." He hesitates a bit and continues, "But you should give it a chance. Maybe it can make you happy."

They both glance at the writing on his bare hand, until he selfconsciously tugs it under his shirt sleeve to hide it from view. A shopping trip to get a wrist band is definitely in order. Flaunting it openly would be vulgar.

"Thanks Joey", he says with a half smile appreciating the advice. Maybe it won't be so bad to leave New Jersey. He might even find someone, not necessary his soulmate, but _someone._

"Take care, Danny." And with this the man is gone and Danny is left alone in the contemplation of his thoughts.

A fresh start, huh?

Well, it couldn't get any worse, right?

###

AN: Thanks for reading, reviews are appreciated! :)


	2. Chapter 2

Hawaii is as beautiful as all the brochures and advertisements suggest with prefect, long beaches and a fascinating variety of nature. Grace is entranced by the culture, the food, the sun and the waves.

Paradise indeed.

Danny absolutely hates it.

So what if he longs for the noise and sheer bustle of New Jersey, where the people still appreciate a Detective with a tie and button-down shirt. There's not even decent pizza in this place, and everywhere he looks there are pineapples and flowers. And surfing - whoever invented the sport was out to break his neck! He is never letting his daughter try this, especially with possible sharks around. His colleagues just laugh about his aversion to water and make jokes about the sunburnt haole with the snarky attitude.

It's not like he can't hear them, he isn't deaf. Mekka, his assigned partner is alright though, respects his choices and the way he works. In turn Danny tries his best to be an asset to every case. Although it's not fun, he slowly adapts to the situation and accepts that his former life in New Jersey is nothing but a wistful dream of the past.

No matter what, he would never leave Grace, just to escape from some palm trees.

###

The brutal murder of John McGarrett is a tough case, especially considering the man served as a cop for most of his life and was a good man by all accounts. Danny doesn't know why he and Mekka get the case, he's too new to be given so much responsibility and he doesn't mind a little pressure, but the assignment makes no sense.

Still, he likes to think of himself as a good detective and he would do everything in his power to catch that bastard Victor Hesse. He's meticulous in his research, goes through all the files to find some clue to his whereabouts. Mekka tries to encourage him to go home earlier, spend some less hours at the office, but what is there to go home to exactly?

A crappy, unpacked apartment in one of the dingiest districts, because he can barely afford more, what with the move, the rent and the monthly alimony payment. He's not complaining, but there just isn't enough money to live comfortably right now. And he doesn't want Grace to see him living like that, so they're always doing something adventurous on their weekends, like camping or treating themselves to a hotel.

It's not an ideal solution and his little girl is going to figure it out soon, but at least for the moment she's happy and content.

When he drives to the McGarrett residence to check out one of the reports, he's more than a little surprised to see a truck parked in the entry way. More importantly, he's pissed, because this is still an active crime scene and the public is meant to be kept outside to prevent the destruction of evidence. Yet maybe this isn't a curious snoop, but one of the perpetrators returning to hide something incriminating. Danny takes out his glock with caution, quietly sneaking closer to the house,when he hears a faint noise from the garage. He creeps in that direction, until he sees an abrupt movement from the corner of his eye, a gun being chocked, and he reacts accordingly, storming inside with his weapon raised.

"Hands up! Don't move!" he barks out and he sees the tall figure of a man freeze for a moment.

Their eyes lock and the other man lowers his gun slightly, shouting back, "Who are you?!"

And it's Danny's turn to startle, because no fucking way this guy just said that. His words.

He couldn't have known, Danny's eyes automatically stray to the blue wristband on his right hand, it looks undisturbed, not a peek of the dark writing showing. Damn it, the one time he prayed to be wrong, but no, naturally he is right about the criminal part.

And the guy part, goddamnit.

"Who the hell are _you_ !" he presses through gritted teeth, and his blood pressure must be mounting the scales again. At least his hand is steady, as his gun remains fixated on the man (his soulmate!).

Frustration is evident in the man's features and he eyes Danny warily.

"Commander Steve McGarrett, this is my father's house-"

Huh, not a criminal then, or maybe just an elaborate trick.

"Detective Danny Williams, Honolulu PD, put your gun away-"

"No! You put _your_ gun away and let me see your ID-"

"You show me yours -", Danny starts, but is interrupted again by McGarrett, who looks more and more irritated.

"I'm not putting my gun away!"

And soulmate, my ass, Danny wants to kick his stupid, stubborn face in for all the trouble he's made.

"Well I'm not either!" he grunts out and he can see how that pisses him off.

They stare each other down, observing every little movement, every flinch, and yeah, it's pretty clear neither of them is going to lower their gun.

McGarrett cracks first and concedes in exasperation, "Fine. Don't lower your gun, just use your free hand to pull out your ID-"

And perhaps it's a little childish, but he can't stop himself from snapping, "After you -"

"At the same time", McGarrett announces and Danny nods.

It's funny how he doesn't doubt the man's identity any longer, even without having seen the proof. Hard to explain, it just feels right, like the name fits him.

"On three", he says, counting, "One... two... three..."

They both fidget with their wallets, opening them one-handed and holding out the correct forms of identification.

Verifying the information they lower their guns and take the time to really look at each other. Then McGarrett strides forward abruptly, heading straight into Danny's personal space and reaches for his right hand.

"Hey!" Danny exclaims, slapping the offending hand away and taking a few steps backwards.

McGarrett scowls at him and promptly ignores his protests and reaches again for his right hand, this time grabbing it forcefully, determinedly sliding the material of the wristband away to reveal the blocky scrawl of **_Who are you?!._**

A jolt of heat races through him, as the other man touches his bare skin. Then there's a sharp jab, a stinging feeling building all over him, although it generates from his mark.

McGarrett looks equally stunned, maybe he feels it, too? Then he rips down his own wristband and shows the previously hidden skin to Danny.

It's disconcerting to see his own barely legible handwriting engraved on the skin of another human being and fascinating all the same.

 ** _Hands up! Don't move!_**

They stare at the matching marks for a long while, unable to comprehend the true significance of the moment.

Only about 80% of all people with a mark find their matching piece. There have been many dissertations on this phenomenon and as far as Danny knows it has something to do with free will and how every decision can lead to a different outcome. If unfulfilled the words fade away into grey and then turn into normal skin, until they are eventually replaced by other words or remain bare. The question debated most fervently is, whether only the manner of meeting one's soulmate differs with the change of words or whether there are more than one soulmate possible for a person.

Not that it matters much to Danny, since he is apparently among the lucky ones to get it right on the first try. Jackpot.

"I thought you were a terrorist", Steve admits sheepishly and Danny stares at him in shock, then laughs.

"Yeah, me too. Thought you were a criminal for sure. "

There's an awkward pause and silence stretches between them. There he is, his soulmate and Danny has literally nothing to say, when before all kinds of questions were filling his brain.

"Look, I'm sorry about your father, McGarrett ", he finally says and tries to be all tactful and tentative, although that's kind of difficult considering they're standing in the house, where the man was murdered, "but this is still an active crime scene and you can't be here, family or not."

McGarrett seems to be reasonable, but then tries to leave with an old toolbox in tow and Danny's not stupid, he's noticed the dust pattern, no way is he leaving with that, soulmate or not. Danny's not budging and he's never encountered a more stubborn person to butt horns with, because he can see it in his eyes, McGarrett isn't backing down either.

"Leave the box or get arrested", he snaps, unable to hold back the sheer anger in his voice.

"Yeah?" And McGarrett has the gall to throw him a confident smirk. "Let's see about that."

And he proceeds to call the governor, the governor , on a private line and Danny can only watch in disbelief, when the bastard nonchalantly raises his hand and is sworn in per mobile phone! Who knows, maybe Danny is one of the official witnesses, not many others around after all.

"Thank you, Governor Jameson", he says cheerily, giving Danny a smile that shows off his rows of white, perfect teeth.

"Now it's my crime scene." And he's obviously enjoying himself, sweeping the box up and going on his way, leaving Danny stunned and furious behind.

He doesn't know if that's a connecting factor, but Danny certainly never wanted to punch someone so badly in the face before, knock out some teeth if possible.

Somehow he doubts it's their bond's fault.

###

AN: Thanks for reading! Reviews would be great, I still have to figure out how to respond on this site yet xD


	3. Chapter 3

Captain Hookano is an ass, and okay he understands it's the governor's order, but it's not like he fought for Danny to keep the case either. He's put so much time and work into this case and even has a solid lead, and it's all over, done with, because Commander Steven McGarrett arrived on the scene and wants to solve it himself.

How this man could be his soulmate is incomprehensible.

And it's not like he doesn't get it, Hesse has murdered McGarrett's father, anyone would be out for vengeance after that. It shouldn't be about revenge though, but to bring about justice and uphold the law. Yeah, if it was Danny's own family, he would be hard pressed to adhere to these ideals, yet he knows it would still be the right decision to let the police handle it.

Anyway, what's done is done. He hands over the file to McGarrett without making much of a fuss, even though the man gives him that wide, provoking grin. No need to antagonise the guy, although he really wants to. Danny has enough trouble with the other detectives here, he doesn't need the stress of arguing with the entitled ass of a commander, too.

After all this crap the only thing he's looking forward to is a nice, cold beer and maybe some TV to kill time and relax. Hah, one good part of being taken from the case, no more work through the evening and night! Mekka would be pleased.

All he can do is relax and stop thinking about the stupid lug of a man he's met this morning.

He's just settled down on his crappy couch, as comfortable as he's likely to get, and searching for a good soap or something, when there's a knock on the door. Wondering who that could be, -not Rachel with Grace, she would have called- it's not like he knows anyone else on this godforsaken island, he trudges over to the door and opens it, only to reveal Steve McGarrett in the flesh.

"What do you want?" he asks warily. If this is about the thing between them, he's going to shut the door so fast in his face that McGarrett can't blink before getting a bloody nose. And he's not taking him to the hospital, oh no!

Their eyes meet and for a second the other man flounders. He looks awkward, sheepish like he can read the violent turn to Danny's thoughts. "It's not about- you know."

Then the stoic mask is back on his face and every little piece of the uncertainty Danny glimpsed before, is shuttered away. "You requested a wire on someone named Frank Doran. Tell me about him."

Sighing in resignation he lets him in, it's about work, he can't really turn him away. Besides, it's good that at least someone is going to follow the lead, even if that person isn't Danny. So he explains his theory that Hesse got his weapon from Doran. The guy's a small fry weapons dealer, but that can make it harder for the police to link him to Hesse. It's not a bad strategy and he can see McGarrett's nod of agreement.

"Okay, let's go talk to him", McGarrett says, suddenly full of energy and a disquieting glint to his eyes.

"Are you suffering from dementia? This isn't my case anymore." He shakes his head in exasperation and adds a little bitterly, "And whose fault is that, huh?"

McGarrett frowns at him. "I need you to help me cover more ground-"

"Well, I'm not doing it, so find someone else", Danny snaps, crossing his arms in agitation.

"You can't tell me you'd rather sit on your couch than apprehend a criminal with me", he grits out.

"That's exactly what I'm telling you! Thanks but no thanks, have a nice day!"

"Okay that's it! I don't care, you got no choice, detective. Governor Jameson gave me jurisdiction and I'm making you my partner."

And this- this is unbelievable.

"You can't just make me your partner!"

"I just did." Damn him, he even has the audacity to smirk at him. Again.

"We're going to get along great."

McGarrett strides out with the calm assurance of a man that has just gotten his way and the full expectation to be followed and obeyed.

Seething with every step, Danny goes after him.

If murderous urges are a part of the soulmate deal, their bond must be particularly deep.

So their talk with Doran doesn't go quite as planned and turns more into a manhunt, in which Danny gets shot, okay grazed, and McGarrett acts more like Rambo than the rational, responsible leader he is supposed to be.

He doesn't even manage to shoot the bastard Doran, (what are his fancy Navy Seal tricks worth now?!) and even lets him take a female hostage, some tourist unfortunate enough to be walking by. Obviously it's up to Danny to save the day, which he does, when he shoots the guy in the head.

And his 'partner's' response? Gratitude? Thanks for saving his life?

No, no, no. Not with Steve McGarrett.

The most pressing thing he's got to say is, "You shot our only lead."

"I freaking saved your life! Thanks for the notice, next time I won't bother!"

Danny turns on his heels and stomps in the direction of his car without waiting for McGarrett to catch up.

No way is he going to be that madman's partner! The governor insists on their continued cooperation? Fine, he would talk to her, or throw his badge in the ocean for all it's worth, and become a P.l., not like anyone would miss the haole cop.

Some idiot bumps into him and an agonising jolt of pain rushes through his shoulder. As he said, it's just a graze, it still hurts though and he doesn't manage to suppress a hiss at the contact with his wound. Hopefully he doesn't bleed through the bandage, the EMT has patched him up already, he doesn't want to go back there.

"Wait! Danny wait!", he hears McGarrett call out behind him and though unwilling, he pauses, glaring at the man.

"Are you alright?" he asks with a glance to his shoulder.

"I'm fine." He leaves the 'No thanks to you' unsaid.

"Listen-", the other man starts and that's enough to make Danny boil over. Really? Would an apology be too much? If not for getting Danny shot, than at least for being a dick.

"No, you listen! I know you've got your personal vendetta going, or whatever, and I'm not butting in, I get it! But the least you can do is acknowledge that I risk my life here, buddy, and one wrong move and I could leave my daughter without a father, okay? So stop fucking around!"

For a moment there McGarrett looks stricken, affected, you know, like an actual human being, then his expression smoothes out and he is back to soldier-mode.

"Are you done?" he asks calmly, effectively dismissing his concerns as irrelevant and treating him like a child throwing a tantrum.

That's when Danny flips.

Within seconds he's right in McGarrett's face, finger outstretched and poking him in the chest as he hurls abuse in his face. With hindsight it's no wonder that McGarrett reacts the way he does. Trained Navy Seal and everything, Danny should have thought about it before prodding at him. In the time it takes him to blink, his right arm is grabbed at the wrist and pinned to his back, while McGarrett's other hand pulls him closer until he's almost pressed flush against the other man's body.

McGarrett's fingers dig into his wristband, press through the fabric into the soulmark beneath and Danny feels a sharp stab of pain at the harsh touch.

"You don't have to like me", the man murmurs in his ear, keeping the conversation private, yet not giving an inch, holding Danny securely in a tight, unyielding grip he cannot escape. "But right now, there's no one else to do this job."

"Let go of me!" Danny demands and his struggles grow frantic.

Unphased, McGarrett slides his thumb under the elastic of the wristband and deliberately strokes over Danny's mark. A jolt travels through his whole body at the contact and searing warmth spreads from the center of his wrist to the rest of his arm. A wave of calmness descends upon him, wrapping around him like a thick blanket and muffling all feelings of rage and anger. He has a moment to feel helplessness rise inside him, until that too is swept away.

"Do you understand, Danny?" McGarrett whispers to him and goosebumps spread all over Danny's skin. Nodding reflexively, he lets himself relax, trusting the man on a subconscious level, as a deep sense of contentment settles inside him.

"Good." With that he slackens his grip and releases Danny, who stumbles a little, feeling weak and shaky at the sudden lack of touch.

"What did you do to me?" he asks cautiously, watching his every move, because whatever just happened was fucked up. Sluggishly his mind tries to come up with possibilities, maybe McGarrett learned this in a special military training program designed to mess with soulmarks?

"Nothing", the man replies nonchalantly and he might have just as well said 'classified'. "You've calmed down, right? We should stop arguing and focus on the human trafficking ring Doran was connected to. We have to get to Hesse before he leaves Hawaii. "

He's right, there are more important matters to consider than their personal differences.

It still feels damn satisfying though, when he punches him in the face with all the not inconsiderable strength he's got. His fist collides with McGarrett's jaw and there's a loud crack. He hopes this will bruise, that it looks all black and blue for everybody to see. Difficult to say what he enjoys more, the stunned look on the other man's face or the actual punch.

"You're right, I don't like you", he admits and inexplicably feels better now, having said that. "And don't ever use that freaky technique on me again, got it?!"

"I can't believe you're my soulmate", McGarrett mutters, rubbing at his jaw.

"Believe me, I didn't sign up for the job!" Danny hisses and McGarrett honest to god grins at him, showing off his perfect, white, unharmed teeth.

At the sight a weird fluttering sensation settles in his stomach and he promptly dismisses the reaction as his body rebelling against the strange Hawaiian food he's been consuming lately. Nothing to do with the guy standing a few feet away from him.

Danny gives in with an exaggerated eyeroll, conceding to the fact that he is not getting out of working this case with that maniac.

"Let's go, McGarrett. Got a murderer to catch."

"You know, you can call me Steve, right? We're partners now", he offers earnestly.

And soulmates, apparently. That realisation would never get old. Steve is so unlike anything Danny ever expected to encounter in his life, and he means that in the most unflattering way possible.

"Yeah, and I don't really care, so let's go!"

AN: Thanks for reading, I hope you like the new chapter!


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